The Ridge: The Whisper of the Leaves - Chap. 25

There was little need for the officers to look for Marshall in the town because Marshall was already on his way south in the company of Marine Staff Sergeant Jackson J. Parker.

“Want a ride,” Parker said simply enough when he pulled over for Marshall. “I’m on the way to Biloxi then I’m coming back up to Dallas. Be glad to take you if you’re heading that way.”

Marshall hesitated a moment in answering because he hadn’t planned on going to Mississippi. Then he realized he wasn’t on any kind of schedule, so why not go to Biloxi.

“Sure,” Marshall said, tossed his sack in the back seat of the government-issued 1936 Chevrolet and got in. “I’m goin’ to Dallas, but no hurry.”

“Good,” Parker smiled and pulled back onto the road. “It gets boring riding by myself. Wouldn’t be so bad if they’d put a radio in these cars, but the military’s not that generous. What’s your name?”

Marshall told the Sergeant his name then Parker identified who he was and that he was a recruiter for the Marines. After telling him this, the Seargeant thrust out his hand which Marshall shook briefly. Marshall took a good look at Parker while shaking his hand and saw a man of about thirty with noticeably short sandy hair, of medium height and who was, as might be expected, looked to be extremely fit.

“Where you from?” Parker asked. “Round here somewhere?”

Marshall didn’t normally care for people who were as talkative as Parker seemed to be, but the Sergeant had an easygoing way about him that made him quickly likeable.

“Naw I’m from the other side of tha state,” Marshall answered. “Not too far from Memphis.”

“I’m from Cleveland,” Parker said, then added while grinning. “Cleveland, Ohio, that is, not Mississippi. But I guess you figured that from my accent.”

Despite himself, Marshall grinned back, thinking, I may like this guy. Even after it became obvious that Parker was not going to miss a recruiting opportunity with him, Marshall still found the sergeant likeable.

Probably part of the reason it didn’t bother Marshall was that Parker did his recruiting so subtly. He didn’t mind the sales pitch and even found the history and current events lessons Parker gave quite interesting.

“You know we’re gonna end up in a war, don’t you?” Parker was some three hours into his on again-off again spiel when they were about twenty-five miles southwest of Shreveport, Louisiana.

“Hadn’t thought much about it, really,” Marshall said.

“Well, we are I can almost guarantee you. It’s just a matter of when and where and who starts it.”

“Whadda ya mean?” Marshall asked, curious now.

“Well, you know about Adolph Hitler, everyone knows about him now?”

Marshall nodded. “Sure. Germany.”

“Right, but you probably haven’t heard as much about Hirohito in Japan or Mussolini in Italy or Franco in Spain or a whole bunch of other countries and rulers. I tell you, Pal, this world is messed up something awful.

“Someone, probably one of these guys, is going to make a move on us sooner or later. And there are a lot of politicians who do not want us to get involved in anything overseas. But everything I see and hear tells me that we’re going to get pushed into a war, whether we or the politicians like it or not.

“That’s why I’m out here, to try to help get the country ready, because the best way we can get ready is to get the military prepared, especially the Marines. Because it’s the Marines who always make the first landings and get into the worst fighting and honor themselves the most.”

Marshall listened. He had often thought about joining the military, especially lately, but he had never really investigated it. The nearest recruiting office of any kind was in Memphis and he didn’t get over there very often.

He knew Parker was telling the truth about the world’s situation even if it was a sales pitch, but right now he was more interested in trying to get his own world in some sort of peaceful order.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know how that was going to come about without returning to Wynne and facing up to the situation he had fallen into. He had no regrets about what he had done, not really. And, in his mind, he knew he was justified. But he also knew the authorities would put two and two together sooner or later and his name would come up as a result.

They were already heading in that general direction already or they wouldn’t be searching for him to question him as the paper had said. Plus, the fact that Gerald, “a friend of his” could not be found made him look even more guilty.

“What do ya think?” Parker’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What?” Marshall answered, embarrassed. “I’m sorry I was thinkin’ bout somethin’ else.”

“I asked if you wanted to stop in this place and try to get a room. It’s eleven o’clock and I’m getting tired and sleepy.”

“Where are we?” Marshall asked suddenly realizing how tired he was as well.

“That sign said it’s a place called, Natchitoches. If you’re hungry we might be able to find something open being Saturday night.”

Marshall also realized he was hungry, the small meal he had had in DeQueen hadn’t gone very far.

“Sure,” He said. “I could use some food, pretty hungry, in fact.”

The only place they found open was a pool hall, the irony of which didn’t escape Marshall. The owner, a sixty-year-old Cajun, was about to close up, but relented when he saw Parker’s uniform. He went back inside and pulled a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from an icebox along with two sodas and sat with them as they ate.

“We really appreciate this sir.” Parker said as he put the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth. “What do we owe you.”

“Not a problem, son,” The man said and smiled. “Ain’t ever let a military man go hungry yet. Not startin’ now.”

“Were you in the service?” Parker asked giving Marshall time to finish his sandwich.

“Ya better believe I was,” He said with a nod. “Went up that hill in Cuba with Roosevelt.......the real Roosevelt.”

“You mean San Juan Hill?” Parker was genuinely impressed. “You were in the charge up the hill?”

“Every foot of it.”

“Were you in the Rough Riders?”

“Naw, I was regular Army. Tenth Cavalry Regiment.”

“I read about them. They lost a lot of men, didn’t they?”

“Mostly officers. Lost eleven out of twenty-two. Good men, all of ‘em. They led us, didn’t just tell us what ta do.” The old man said then leveled his eyes at Parker. “We’re gonna be in a war ‘fore long, son. I hope you’re a leader like they were.”

Marshall looked at Parker and saw his eyes mist up slightly.

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Good.” The man said and stood up. “If ya’ll gonna be stayin’ the hotel’s a couple of blocks away. Tell ‘em Joe Gibbons sent ya over and ta charge ya rooms ta me.”

“Thanks, Mr. Gibbons,” Parker said as he stood. “But I’m on a recruiting trip so the expenses are covered.”

Gibbons looked at Marshall, “He recruit you?”

Marshall grinned and glanced at Parker, “He’s sure tryin’.”

Gibbons chuckled and walked with them to the front door.

“Don’t mean to rush ya’ll along, but it’s nearly midnight and I’m not as young as I used to be.” Gibbons opened the front door for them. “Ya’ll take care now.”

“Thank you, Mr Gibbons,” Marshall and Parker both said as they walked out. They found the hotel easily enough, but they had to bang on the door for a time before they were able to rouse anyone. Finally, though, a lady in a housecoat opened the door.

“Ya know I normally don’t let anyone in after ten,” The woman said as she opened the door then proceeded to give them two rooms for the price of one. Marshall offered the sergeant fifty cents in payment for the room, but he wouldn’t take it.

“It’s business,” He responded. “I’m wining and dining.....and lodging a potential recruit, so put your money away.”

The matter being settled, they said their goodnights and went to their separate rooms. Marshall tossed his poke on the bed and saw that the room was small, but clean and adequate for his needs. Next to the only window was a washstand with a pitcher and bowl situated on it. Marshall smelled the water and, deciding it wasn’t too old poured out a bowlful and, after stripping to his shorts, sponged off.

He was not the type that felt he needed to bathe every day, twice a week was enough for that, but he did wash thoroughly at the end of each day. He never had any desire to be laying on a layer of three-day old dirt and sand on his bed.

When Marshall finished his toiletries, he dropped into rather than on the room’s billowy feather bed and put his head on a an equally soft pillow. He had almost forgotten just how good a bed could feel to be in a bed alone. There had always been too many brothers and too few beds in his family.

But he was alone now, and the loneliness suddenly began to overwhelm him. He had stopped the tears in the last few days just as he had all his life, but now, alone, in a strange room, in a strange town he gave in. Then once it started, it seemed like it would go on endlessly.

He sobbed, and he sobbed, and he sobbed unashamedly. He sobbed because he mourned. Mourned for his brother, James - sweet shy James. He mourned for his mother and father who now had had to bury two children, Ellie being the first. He mourned for his brothers and sisters who had now lost a sister and a brother. He mourned for Gerald who would have to carry much of the blame for the whole situation with him for the rest of his life.

Marshall even mourned for the Lawrence and Prichard families who he didn’t even know, but who must have ached as his family did. And finally, he mourned for himself, for the brother he had lost, for the murders he had been compelled to commit, for the life he had lost. A life he had complained about and threatened time and again to vacate, but a life, now, that he would give anything to be able to return to.

The mourning continued until his exhausted body took control of his thoughts and he finally fell off asleep. The last thing he remembered thinking was that it was time to begin planting.

When Gerald woke up it was dark, in fact it was beyond dark, it was jet black. If there was a moon or stars of any kind visible, their light couldn’t pierce the solid canopy of trees draped over him. Even though no leaves were on them, the trees still formed a thicket above him. He crawled to his feet, sore and stiff from the ground.

“Well,” He said in just above a whisper. “Now what?”

He asked the obvious question and knew the obvious answer - stay put until daylight, so he did just that. He couldn’t sleep for some time due to the sounds he heard in the woods in the dark in the night.

Gerald had never been much of an outdoors-man, but now he wished he had gone hunting or fishing or anything when Marshall had offered. He never had, though, and now that lack of knowledge was playing havoc with his imagination.

He knew for sure that these woods held bobcats and rattlesnakes because he had heard so much about them from other people. On top of that, however, was the possibility that a much rarer creature such as a bear or panther would make its appearance and find him interesting.

Even with these thoughts, around midnight he finally dozed off. The last thing he thought was that he had missed the chocolate pie that his mother made every Friday.